Scandal Season: U.C.L.A. and Bountygate

The sports pages were rocked by two scandals last week: one professional, one collegiate; one reported by the media, the other by league officials. Both were depressing, though neither was especially surprising.

On Wednesday, George Dohrmann, Sports Illustrated’s top investigative reporter, released an exposé of the U.C.L.A. basketball team, and attempted to explain its string of disappointing seasons through a series of perceived diversions from the “U.C.L.A. Way.” That path is one created and defined by John Wooden, who hasn’t coached at the university in more than thirty-five years, but who remains a figure of unimpeachable moral and ethical standing even two years after his death—and who became as well known for his advice about life as about basketball.

Despite subsequent years of success, U.C.L.A. has never shaken his warm shadow. Not that you’d want to, and not that anyone would move away from it intentionally, but the S.I. story—titled “Not the U.C.L.A. Way”—suggests a pretty clean break from tradition. What did the program do wrong? Roughly, they recruited more talented but less disciplined players, gave them a slightly longer leash, and, as S.I. summarized it, “Fighting, drinking, drug use and lack of control ultimately led to UCLA’s downfall.” A team bowling trip was blown off by several players. Highly-regarded freshman are accused of being “famous before they ever played a game,” unlike the unheralded stars of previous years. The head coach, Ben Howland—who led the team to three straight Final Fours a few years back—is accused of coddling players, and enabling bad behavior.

Something is amiss, certainly, but the evidence comes far from showing anything exceptional. U.C.L.A. sinned relative to its competitors only by degrees; partying, fighting, and drug use are the bane of all groups of young men tasked with being productive. Most top college programs face these problems on a regular basis. Some manage to control them, others don’t. To suggest that U.C.L.A.’s problems are in another league only rings true in comparison to a legendary man working in a completely different era. The final portrait becomes less one of scandal and dishonor than a picture of the problems that can plague any struggling team.

The strangest allegation in the story concerned one player who apparently attempted to injure teammates in practice. (The accused player, Reeves Nelson, has denied the allegation.) It’s debatable whether this is more or less despicable than attempting to hurt an opponent, but it’s certainly more surprising. On Friday afternoon, the National Football League released a report into alleged violations, by the New Orleans Saints, of the “Bounty Rule.” Payouts for specific in-game acts—from collecting a fumble to sending a wide receiver to intensive care—are all against the rules, but the bounty rule particularly addresses the latter: don’t pay your guys to intentionally hurt the other guys. Over the weekend, Steve Coll gave a good rundown of the allegations, and their implications, including possible legal jeopardy.

It’s shameful stuff, but more distressing is that it doesn’t come across as all that shocking. Football is a sport in which many coaches are intentionally evasive on published injury reports, not wanting to expose the fact that their star running back has some tender ribs. The implication, understood by all fans, is that the other team will target the injured area. What’s new under the alleged system in New Orleans (and possibly Washington, and presumably many other places), is that a formal rather than informal reward system appears to be in place. This merely made bald what we’ve all begun to understand about the N.F.L.: these guys are paid to hurt each other.

One of the strangest aspects of concussion-related concern in the N.F.L. over the past few years is that current players, the ones who could be most directly affected by any protections against head injuries, often seem least concerned about it. Or, at least, there is a vocal group of mostly defensive players that doesn’t want to change the way the game is played. Complaints about overly strict referees often seem louder than any gratitude for their protection. Those players may simply see much of the N.F.L.’s enforcement as window dressing, not serious protection, and perhaps rightly so.

How the N.F.L. reacts to this latest scandal will be instructive as to how seriously it’s taking this issue. What penalties, if any, will be assessed against the Saints? And what if other teams, perhaps the majority of teams, are found to have similar systems? Will the penalties be more or less than the punishment—several fines, and a lost draft pick—levied against the New England Patriots in the wake of revelations that they had illegally taped the practice of an opposing team? Nobody necessarily got hurt there, physically, which is more than we can say for anything that involves a bounty. These allegations won’t bring down football, and it’s hard to be surprised by anything that suggests the game is infected with violence. But at a slow sports-news moment, it’s yet another blow.